Forever a Brother
by hydrogenstarfuel
Summary: Canada is shot and wounded badly- How will America react when he finds out his brother is in the hospital? Rated T for some mild gore (A little bit of blood) and some swearing. "Canada... has been shot."
1. World Meeting Minus One

Hello, everyone! This is one of my newer stories, so it's probably not going to be amazing.** I do NOT own Hetalia** (If I did, the 2p's would show up and GerIta would be canon), and this is rated **T for some mild gore** (A little bit of blood).

This fanfiction is based off of real events.

In Ottowa, very unfortunately, there was a shooting in which one person was injured (Not very manyy xD but still sad and enough to inspire this fic). So, I'm making it so Canada gets shot. There are more real events in later chapters.

Chapter 1: The World Meeting, Minus One

"Ugh, I'm bored~!" America whined, kicking his feet up on the table, hoping to attract attention. To his surprise, Britain did not hit him upside the head or tell him to act like an adult. Because of the American's oblivious nature, he didn't notice something grim hung in the air.

Germany was talking quietly with Italy, and Russia wasn't bludgeoning anyone with his pipe. He was even sitting next to Lithuania and not making his former maid scared.

"Uh, guys?" America tapped his boot on the table.

England shot his younger brother a glance; Alfred could detect a mixture of pity,  
guilt, and sadness.

"Iggy, what's wrong?"

There was no response from the Brit. Nor the Frenchman, or the Russian, Italian,  
German, Japanese, Chinese, Latvian, Estonian, or anyone else, for that matter.  
Suddenly, France moved his chair to an empty space next to England's seat and whispered something into his ear.

America sniggered. "Probably another pervy joke. Iggy's face is going to be hilarious!" He thought to himself and smirked.

Except, instead of repulsing, Arthur let himself fall forward a little bit into France's arms.

"We need to tell him," France said in a soft tone, so softly America couldn't hear it.

"I know..." England whispered, voice cracking. "It would be hard for me... He was my son."

"He was my little brother, mon cherie."

"Uh, dudes, what's going on here?" America asked, removing his feet from the top of the table and leaning inwards attentively.

"C-cana-" Britain's voice cracked and the rest of his sentence was drowned out by tears threatening to spill. He tried to choke out the rest of the words, but his throat was getting tighter.

"Angleterre, it's okay. I'll tell him." France looked like he was faring no better than the Brit, if not worse. His eyes had grown puffy and his nose was the slightest bit red.

"Spill the beans." America was a bit nervous of what was about to come. He scanned everyone's anxious faces, searching for any hints.

"America..." France started. "Canada... has been shot." His words lingered in the air.

America felt a knot in his throat. He didn't say anything at first. "W-where...  
Where is my brother?" He spoke quietly, eyes focused on the ground.

"Ottawa Brook Hospital." No sooner than those words were spoken, America had stood up and was already running for the door, slapping on a coat and a black hat in the process.

Italy blinked a few times, looking at Germany. "Doitsu, let's go."

"Okay, Italy." Germany guided his ally and partner out the door. Soon, everyone was gone except for Britain, Russia (He was sleeping in a corner) and France.

"Should we have stopped him?" The proud Englishman rubbed his eyes.

"Non, he needs to see his brother. It will do them both good." France looked up. "I wonder what kind of soul would have the heart to do this to a person like Canada."

Arthur smiled faintly. "If I where them, I'd fear for my life. There's nothing that could stop America once he gets angry with someone."

"True." France agreed.

"Huhuhu, I knew you two loved each other." A thick Russian accent drifted across the room.

"Russia! I thought you were asleep!" England shouted. France could practically see the hair on the back of the other's neck standing on end.

Ivan waved it off. "I was, but I woke up in time to see you two being compassionate about each other for once, instead of having one of your little lover's spats."  
There was nothing but silence as the Russian walked out the door.


	2. Pushing Through the Storm

**Hey, everyone! I'm not dead xD**

**There is no historic significance in this chapter. -Felix**

Chapter 2: Pushing Through the Storm

America shoved his way through crowds, running all the way. He didn't stop at McDonald's, or to stare at the horror game store. He needed to get to his brother. America didn't stop until he reached Ottawa Brook Hospital. He forgot to break out of his run when bursting through the door and screaming his question at the nurses.

"WHERE THE HELL IS MATTHEW WILLIAMS!" He shouted, the wide eyed patients hurried to another room, and the shocked nurses backing away slightly from the desk in which they were standing at. America realized that was a one-way ticket out of the hospital and possibly to therapy. "Oh, uh, sorry. Can you tell me where my brother is?" He reminded himself to ask while not screaming.

"N-name?"

"Alfred. F. Jones. I'm here to see Matthew Williams, my brother."

"Okay, we will need to see an item of identification." America rummaged through his pockets, eventually finding his driver's license. The nurse took it from his hand, entered something into a computer, and passed it back to Alfred, along with a visitor's pass.

"Your brother is in room 23, floor two. Best wishes to both of you."

"Thank you, ma'am."

America wasted no time in running up the stairs and searching the hallways for room 23. His mind was clouded with regret, despair, and panic while he did so.

_'Why did I have to always play that stupid joke on him?'_ He asked himself within the boundaries of his mind, referring to the way he always pretended Matthew was invisible. _'He was my only brother! What if he dies! Why couldn't I be there to protect him!'_ America beat himself up subconsciously until his eyes stumbled upon his new favorite number; 23.

He burst through the door, desperate to find Canada. What he saw in the tiny, white room nearly broke his already pained heart.  
Matthew was lying, asleep, in a small, white hospital bed with sheets draped around him. There was a ventilator working tirelessly next to him, the droning sound soft and consistent.

Alfred felt a lump grow in his throat. His innocent, loveable little brother was lying, hurt, in a dirty old hospital room. He gently rested a hand on Canada's shoulder.  
"Oh, Matthew." He sighed, silent tears forcing their way out of his eyes and down his cheeks. "Who could hurt someone like you?"

America noticed a chair across the room and pulled it over to Canada's bedside. He promised to himself he wouldn't leave until his brother woke up. If it took hours, days, or weeks. He wouldn't leave that room for anything.

The tall nation reached for his brother's hand and held it as if it where a lifeline. More tears slipped from his eyes as he thought about all the memories he'd had with Matthew.

_'There was that time,' _America smiled through his weeping. _'When I climbed the huge oak tree in the yard, but Iggy told me not to climb it. I couldn't get down on my own, and Canada eventually found me. He climbed up, too, but couldn't go back to the ground, either. We both had to wait until England found us.' _

He laughed a little bit, and he trailed off into more memories. It must have been at least an hour or two, judging by the change of light pouring through the window. Suddenly, the door to the room creaked open and a woman entered, a cart filled with crap that looked like hospital food behind her (Or it might have been puke, Alfred wasn't sure).

"Hello, sir. Visiting hours are over." America's eyes widened, heartbroken.

"He's my little brother! I can't just abandon him like that!"

The nurse shot him a pitiful glance. "You will be notified when he wakes up, Mr. Jones."

"HOW THE HELL DO YOU KNOW MY NAME!?"

"I was the one you screamed at when you got into the hospital and then passed your driver's license too."

America blushed, smiled, and rubbed the back of his head. "Sorry about that..."

"Apology accepted. Now I must ask you to leave."

The man tried to make his best 'kicked puppy' face possible, but the woman didn't move. She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Okay, I'm going..." Alfred grumbled before bumping into her purposely on the way out.

**Sorry for the short chapter! I suck at writing in chapters xD**

**Please review! I love hearing what people say about my stories. I would have worked harder on this but people kept bugging me to post another chapter xD  
**


	3. Christmas, Alone

**Hey everyone! This is Felix. Sorry for not updating sooner, I was writing some other shit xD This chapter has little to no historical significance. Consider it a (VERY) late Christmas/Hanukkah present. :)**

Lights varying in bright hues twinkled, reflecting off the Christmas Eve snow. Couples were outside, skating, or opening early-given gifts. Children were scattered amongst them, devouring candy apples and hot chocolate.

However, Alfred was doing none of those things. He was sitting inside a hospital, holding his brother's freezing cold hand. Usually America loved Christmas Eve, but due to his brother's 'incident' he was grim as the reaper. He didn't even think about presents, or Christmas dinner, or anything. Alfred just wanted his brother back.

Arthur had visited several times, each time ending in tears. He couldn't bear to see Canada so limp and broken... Let alone America in his depressed trance. England often brought him a burger, which usually went uneaten.

Francis had also taken time to check up on Matthew, but most of his time was spent with England, comforting the other and himself.

France had recently left the room, leaving Alfred alone with his unconcious brother. The cardiac monitor beeped, creating a shaky rhythm. Grim presence hung in the air. Shifting slightly, America gave a little squeeze to Canada's cold hand. According to all the doctors, his condition had neither worsened or improved, which was both relieving and horrifying at the same time.

"Matthew," Alfred sighed, running a hand through silky, long blonde hair that belonged to Canada. "Why can't you just wake up? I miss you." He whined.

The ventilator groaned, as if in response.

"Its weird... I'm all cried out... I can't cry anymore, even if I want to. I've been doing it so much lately... I guess I'm all dried up." America laughed a little. "France brought a wreath for you made of flags, and it's hanging on your door right now... Iggy also brought some scones, but I threw those out. We don't need another person sick."

Suddenly, the door creaked open, making the American jump slightly. It was only a group of four little girls and about two boys, with papers in hand.

_"We wish you a Merry Christmas_  
_ We wish you a Merry Christmas_  
_ We wish you a Merry Christmas_  
_ And a Happy New Year_  
_Good tidings we bring_  
_ To you and your kin_  
_ We wish you a Merry Christmas, and__ a Happy New Year!" _The children sang, slightly off chord but very well done for their age. It was adorable nonetheless. Alfred grinned and applauded.

"Good job, guys! Merry Christmas to you too!" He smiled.

"Thank you, mister!" One of the little boys peeped up from the back of the group. He had long blonde hair, with little curls everywhere. Violet eyes looked happily at America, pleased at being praised.

"He looks like Canada when he was-" The American started, being taken into a flashback. The children stared at him for a moment, and seeing he hadn't finished his sentence, moved to the next patient's room.

**FLASHBACK **

_"Mattie, where are you?!" Alfred yelled, snow building up around him. He and his brother were going caroling, and Arthur had finally let them go alone. "Mattie!"_

_Meanwhile, Canada was curled into a small ball in the cold. He was lost, because America was running to fast for the other boy to catch up. Alligator tears streamed down his face. "Alfred! Help me!"_

_Thankfully, the tiny American heard the call (Canada could be loud when he wanted to!) and he hurried to find the source. When he finally found his brother, he was buried in snow. _

_"Mattie, are you okay?" Alfred started to dig him out, finishing the job by pulling him the rest of the way._

_"C-cold..." Canada's teeth chattered._

_America took off his small jacket, handing it to Matthew. "Come on, we're going home."_

**END OF FLASHBACK  
**

Suddenly, a soft and gently voice broke the silence.

"A-Ameri-ca..."

Canada had woken up.


End file.
